


This land was made for you and me

by orphan_account



Category: Handmaid's Tale - Atwood, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-29
Updated: 2010-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-10 20:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life and times of a newborn nation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This land was made for you and me

**Author's Note:**

> Some knowledge of _The Handmaid's Tale_ is required. Knowledge of Hetalia's basic concept (anthropomorphic nations) is recommended, and duly provided.

**Title: this land was made for you and me**  
Fandom: Hetalia, The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood  
Date written: Nov. 2009  
Warnings: Violence and themes.

\---

_this land is your land  
this land is my land  
this land was made for you and me_

\---

She opens her eyes. There is white all around her. A swirl of red, red paint, red lipstick. She is on her knees. She stands. Stumbles, falters, limps. Walks. Her footprints are red. There are lumps of cooling flesh on the ground. They have holes in them. She avoids them. They will trip her if she isn't careful.

There are men, walking around. They are wearing the same black uniforms, carrying the same guns. They are taking down the flag from the wall. It is a colorful flag, red and white and blue. Stars. Stripes. It hurts her eyes to look at it; she looks away.

A man comes towards her. He wears black, too. It is a bleak contrast with the white of the walls. Who is he? She doesn't know. He comes up to her, grabs her arm. It hurts. She tries to squirm free.

He doesn't look at her directly. Is it because she is naked? Suddenly she feels ashamed.

Who are you, he demands. What are you doing here. He shakes her again. She is silent, afraid. He grabs her chin, forces her to look at him.

He looks into her eyes. He is surprised; his grip loosens.

Gilead, she whispers.

\---

She stays in her room, most of the time. It is small, with one window. The curtains are white and lacy. She likes to run them through her fingers; they're soft. There aren't many soft things in her room.

Her dress is white and scratchy. She wishes she could have another one.

A woman in green brings her food three times a day. She doesn't say much, but sometimes the green woman smiles at her as she sets the tray down. Omelette, orange juice, bread rolls. Carrots. Lettuce. Chicken. The food is good, but she is always hungry. She feels sick, deep down. There is poison in the air, in her blood. She tries to occupy herself, to forget the hunger and the nausea. She looks out the window, but there is only a roof and the blank gray sky beyond.

Sometimes she gives in. Closes her eyes. Sees her people fighting. Slumps to the ground, bullet holes in her chest. Pulls the trigger.

She wants freedom. What is freedom? She wants to run. She wants to stay. She is powerful. She is powerless.

She is afraid. She doesn't know why.

Curl up on the bed. Sleep. Dream. But it is never really dreaming, with her kind.

\---

They never told her that she must stay in her room, so why does she feel guilty when she leaves it without an escort?

There are voices in the big room down the hall, angry voices, appeasing voices. The door is open. She shouldn't look, but she does.

The Man is there, the Man who found her, and others too. They are sitting at a long table and arguing. Their backs face her. She is not tall enough to see who sits on the other side.

The voices rise, and she shrinks away. A man suddenly stands up and storms towards the door, fists clenched, jaw set. He has straw-blond hair, thick eyebrows, sea-green eyes. The eyes catch her attention; he is another Nation. She has never seen another Nation before.

He sees her; stops dead in his tracks. How strange, she thinks. He is turning as white as my dress. Do I frighten him?

Where's America, he snarls. No one at the table answers. A young man with curly hair and glasses puts his hand on his shoulder, whispers comfortingly in his ear. The blond man shakes him off. Where's America, he demands again.

This is not America anymore, the Man says. England, please meet the Republic of Gilead.

England stares at her. America must have meant a lot to him, Gilead thinks. Maybe that is why he is crying.

\---

Her people remember America, so she too remembers America, but the picture is incomplete. Sometimes she stares at the ceiling and wonders what kind of person America was. What did he look like? What kind of food did he like? What did he do in his spare time? Her Commanders did not keep any pictures of the previous government.

The Aunts tell her that America had been decaying, falling apart. Plagued with sin and violence. A horrible place, a horrible time. She is better now. She is much better than America. She is pure and saintly, cleansed.

America is in Hell, then, she decides. The wicked all go to Hell.

But she is not sure if that applies to Nations. Perhaps he simply disappeared into the air.

God never said anything about what happens to Nations when they die.

\---

She grows quickly. When her blood first comes and she is doubled up in pain in the bathroom, Aunt Maybelline finds her and helps her clean up and tells her about becoming a woman.

The women of this land are dedicated to helping you grow, she says. They are honored to bear children for you.

She thinks she is happy to hear that. She is glad that she is growing bigger, stronger. She can almost ignore the constant headaches now. They are a part of her.

\---

The Man, her Premier Commander, has dinner with her one night. He stares at her the entire time. When they stand to leave, he kisses her hand.

She shivers. She feels sick. She is excited.

He does not touch her again, and she loves and hates him for it.

\---

Her people are dying and fleeing. But more dying than fleeing. It is hard to keep them from crossing her borders, but she does so want them to stay. She will love them and protect them. She is glad of the Eyes. They help her see. She is glad for the Angels, even when the war hurts. But they do God's will, and that is what matters most.

\---

The Man is dead and so are half of her Commanders. There are new Commanders now, and they tell her that everything they do is for her, and for God.

She believes them, even as she hears their lies.

\---

She dreams of a child. It runs from her no matter how fast she chases after it.


End file.
